Extramarital Affair
by BlazeInfinity
Summary: What Diwaldor Tabris, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, truly missed about his wedding day. Oneshot. Male Tabris/Nessa. Rated T for -slight- sexual themes.


**Extramarital Affair**

_a Dragon Age fanfiction story_

_by **BlazeInfinity**_

* * *

><p><strong>Brief introduction: <strong>_Ever since reading up on the internet an idea a fan proposed to make Nessa a romance option for a City Elf Warden, though I never thought that something like that would work in the actual game, I must say the concept intrigued me. So, taking slight liberties with what went on in the game, or rather what was possible in the game, here is my first Dragon Age fanfiction, Extramarital Affair. Which is an extreme oneshot, note, so it's by far not as awesome as it could potentially be._

* * *

><p>"Wake up, cousin! It's your big day!" my cousin Shianni's voice rang in my ears that morning.<p>

Oh, how I hate that notion.

I don't show it, and I don't complain about it, but I hate this whole concept, as much as I would hide it under pretenses that I'm excited, or that I'm glad. Because I wasn't. I just wanted this to be over already, and for now, well, I'd play a fool and fake a smile on my face.

"Huh..? Did I... oversleep?" I asked, yawning in the process.

"Yes, your father and I figured you deserved it," she smiled. I didn't. Mentally, I was frowning. "You do know what today is, don't you?"

"Not that stupid, Shianni," my expression gradually faded into a sad smile, "Not that stupid."

"Well great then," she laughed, "because your bride sure wouldn't like an idiot as her groom. Now, then, I'll go find the other bridesmaids and my dress, too - you get ready and find Soris."

It takes me a brief while to get changed into my wedding clothes, an item I personally hate to no end. They're blatantly ugly in my point of view.

What awaits me when I leave my room is a long-expected good morning conversation with my father.

"Good morning, Diwaldor," he welcomes me, "it's your big day! Oh, I wish your mother could've been here."

And with those words, sadness engulfs me, in spite of how much I try to fake what I'm feeling today.

"Me too, father..." I speak, lost in my sad thoughts for a second before returning to the fake personality of a bridegroom enjoying his impending wedding, "Well, what should I be doing?"

"Find Soris," he nods, "The sooner this wedding starts, the less time you two have to escape. And one more thing, son," here he starts talking ever more solemnly, "I'm really sorry. It's just that Nesiara, your bride... she'll bring much more happiness to you and the Alienage than _she_ ever could."

I swear upon the fact that my name is Diwaldor Tabris, this is so blatantly wrong. Everyone's and everything's so blatantly wrong. They can't even say her name out loud when they're talking to me, because they know that name means more to me than the whole remaining part of the sentence. Everyone can't... Shianni, my father, Soris, all of them can't bear to even whisper it though I see her every day when I go for a walk through the Alienage. Because for some strange reason I can't even have the girl I _want_, the girl I _need_. Why does it matter if I have her or I have this Nesiara?

"Thank you, father," I say, with genuine forgiveness in my voice. "I understand."

Well hell, no, I really sodding don't. But I forgive my father, as I've said - he, though I cannot understand it yet most likely, knows what's best for me. I trust him. Hopefully.

It didn't take me too long to see her today after exiting my home, too. The difference - a very important difference - was that now, she was accompanied by her parents. And packing.

As I came up to them, Nessa had almost humbly lowered her eyes, while her father, Paladir, turned to face me.

"Congratulations on your big day, young one," he said, even though being not that old to begin with, "We hoped to stay for the wedding, but we must be off."

"What? Why?" I asked, the feeling of threat, of fear gripping my throat.

"The human who owns our building decided to sell it for storage space," explained Nessa's mother. "We wanted to look for work in Highever..."

"... But that's just not possible," finished Nessa's father.

"What if you stayed at our house?" with no thought to simple rationality, I replied. After all, the concept of living in one house with Nessa seemed attractive for a millisecond. Then, not being too surprised in the process, I found myself in the middle of a brief speech that essentially meant, "The whole of us - you, Soris, Cyrion, us, and your wives in one house? Are you mad?"

"What my husband means is, you're very generous, but no, take care of yourself, instead," Nessa's mother quickly interrupted the rant.

"... Good luck," I grimly spat, though quite honestly for Nessa's sake, before taking a turn around the vhenadahl.

Which was when I felt her electrifying, warm touch on my wrist. I turned immediately.

"Wait," she said, gently. "I just need to talk to you for a second."

Her beautiful red hair, her ebony eyes, and most of all, the person herself who was standing in front of me - that poor girl which has so unfortunately for both her and me become the subject of every single one of my dreams, particularly quite indecent ones, well, tell me, you bastards, how could I have refused her?

"Anything, Nessa," I said, though still grimly.

"My parents are too proud to accept help, much less to ask for it," she began. "I apologize for that, by the way."

"Nessa..." I whispered out her name, as her eyes widened, slowly witnessing me draw closer. "I don't want you to go. I don't want you to be more than a hundred steps away from me."

"But... you're getting married," she faked a sad laugh. Gah, I am so sick of this lying and faking things!

"I still don't want you leaving," I found myself whispering straight in her ear. "I'll find money. How much do you need to stay here?"

"Ten silvers, but..." she breathed ever more tensely as she found herself ever closer to me, despite it not being that close to begin with. Not close enough for someone around to suspect me of unfaithfulness. Just yet. "Where can you find someone with that much money to spare?.. Diwaldor, you know... I feel the same. I can't be apart from you," she nearly moaned this out by now.

"I'll find some," I repeated what I had said just recently.

I have no recollection where I got those ten silvers from that day. It seemed unimportant. All I knew was that when I got them, I screamed in triumph. Mentally, at least. Nessa, forget this wedding and all that comes with it, would stay there. Close to me.

And she was so happy when she got the money, I had never seen someone as happy before in my life to begin with! And we shared that happiness, for it was just as much ours together as it was hers and mine apart.

"Where did you get so much money?" she screamed ecstatically as I smiled at her. "Diwaldor, now..." she suddenly turned serious, "where do we go now? You're getting married, and not to me... what will we do?"

I smiled, a cynical smile at that, "You don't actually suppose I'll spend any nights at all with my wife for as long as you're around, do you?"

She turned her gaze, looking me straight in the eyes. I thought I saw a tear of joy. And then, then the expression was changed, abruptly. Good-girl Nessa suddenly, or that was the impression I got, became a sexy, seductive woman who knew just what she wanted right then. And I knew what I wanted right then, more than anything, too.

"You know, I do know how to lock and unlock some doors in the abandoned apartments in the back alleys without using keys," she "boasted", at the same time inhaling a whole new batch of air, provoking her slim body to slightly reshape and notably point out her breasts. I felt most of the parts of my anatomy react to this, what she seemed to outright enjoy seeing me get all uncomfortable.

What kind of a radical change in personality was I witnessing? Not that I disliked it. I wanted to make love to her, right now, in one of those apartments of hers. Hence why I didn't resist too much when she gestured towards the back alley.

"Nessa..." I tried saying as we entered the interior of the building, but she silenced me with a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Emotional, lively, refreshing. Pressing me straight against the wall, too. Her tongue licked everything that was in there to begin with straight out.

She suddenly awoke in me an evergrowing wish to _please_ her. I began by taking control of the make-out we were having, first by entangling her tongue in my own, then by pushing it back to _her_ mouth. Our lips, locked in an ever-unbreakable trance. We traded positions, I took her into my arms and pressed her ever closer to me, raising her straight into the air, into my arms.

We, still locked in our kiss, kicked open the first available door and laid down on a near-destroyed, but still standing bed, as I pressed her to the mattress.

"Are you sure... oh Maker, sodding yes..." she moaned as I trailed kisses down her neck, slowly beginning to take off her dress and into her decollete. "Are you sure this thing is going to hold us once we get _really_ close? I think it'd already collapse from the sound I'll make, oh Maker, I don't think it'll need my general behavior..."

Suddenly, she overthrew me and outright tore open her dress, descending on me seconds later. We, a few seconds later, realized this bed had no blankets on it, so it was kind of cold. But not whilst we were next to, or rather _on_ each other.

Our kisses devoured all around. I won't go into detail because I detest detail in matters that I hold personal, but say that right then, nothing around mattered. The wedding, finding Soris, even the cake became barely existent.

We were tender, and we were kind. Instead of this pretentious, fake, completely physical passion everyone nowadays is obsessed with and names 'love', we actually loved each other. That morning, our passion was a product, an expression, of our love and not vice-versa. We were imperfect _there, _in bed that is, but it didn't matter, because we were together - for all we cared we could just be next to each other, still and immobile.

"Nessa," I spoke, lying by her afterwards, running my hand gently through her hair and down her naked body, "are you alright?"

"Sodding yes, I'm alright," she spat, laughing, as she flipped over and gently touched my short auburn hair. "I've just been made love to by the man I love. Why shouldn't I be?"

I laughed, too. Joyfully. Probably the last genuine laugh I remember myself to have. Usually, I just chuckle or smile. Or fake laughs.

"Hopefully, this won't be the last time," I said, kissing her for the one hundred and fourteenth time again.

To this day, I, Diwaldor Tabris, Commander of the Grey, regret the fact that I was wrong.


End file.
